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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25275796">the synchronization shifts</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellieb3an/pseuds/Ellieb3an'>Ellieb3an</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Hints of pre-atsuhina, Osamu has Empty Nest Syndrome, Osamu watches Atsumu's journey through professional volleyball without him, POV Miya Osamu</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:40:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,455</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25275796</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellieb3an/pseuds/Ellieb3an</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>They’ve been each other’s best friends and harshest critics, and—even if he would never say this out loud to Atsumu—have relied on each other. But sometimes Atsumu is outright dependent, and Osamu wonders how he could even survive simple tasks on his own. That’s why he gives him a year to let it sink in that it won’t last forever.</p>
<p>As expected, Atsumu is furious about it. Because how could he grasp that anything exists outside volleyball, outside them playing volleyball together and pushing each other, measuring against each other. He can’t fathom finding a happiness that comes without it. </p>
<p>So when Atsumu vows to live the happier life...</p>
<p>  <i>Go ahead and show me.</i></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bokuto Koutarou &amp; Miya Atsumu, Hinata Shouyou &amp; Miya Atsumu, Miya Atsumu &amp; MSBY Black Jackals, Miya Atsumu &amp; Miya Osamu</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>369</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>MSBY Exchange</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>the synchronization shifts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/snickerdoodlles/gifts">snickerdoodlles</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I had a lot of fun writing about these two and Atsumu’s journey with MSBY. I hope you’ll enjoy! &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For just 18 minutes of his life, Miya Osamu was an only child. He doesn’t remember it, of course, but he likes to remind his younger twin when he’s being particularly annoying—which is generally all the time. </p>
<p>Atsumu, on the other hand, has never lived in a world without him. Osamu sometimes wonders if that explains some fundamental part of why Atsumu is the way he is. Childish, demanding, rude. A complete lack of care for how he’s perceived by anyone because he’s always had a built-in friend who can’t just choose to drop him when he’s being an ass.</p>
<p>Atsumu has an unspoken expectation that Osamu will always be there doing everything with him. Not that Osamu isn’t guilty of it, too. They’ve always done everything together, after all. From the nonsense twin language their parents memorialized in baby videos to their first real words and first steps and favorite foods (that they stole from each other’s plates often) and everything in between up through volleyball. Up to now. </p>
<p>They’ve been each other’s best friends and harshest critics, and—even if he would never say this out loud to Atsumu—have relied on each other. But sometimes Atsumu is outright dependent, and Osamu wonders how he could even survive simple tasks on his own.</p>
<p>That’s why he gives him a year to let it sink in that it won’t last forever, because they have to carve their own paths at some point.</p>
<p>As expected, Atsumu is furious about it. Because how could he grasp that anything exists outside volleyball, outside them playing volleyball together and pushing each other, measuring against each other. He can’t fathom finding a happiness that comes without it. </p>
<p>And Osamu knows him and the unspoken anxiety of going this alone, but Atsumu has the advantage of always having been sure that this was the one path for him. </p>
<p>Osamu hasn’t decided yet <em> what </em> he wants to pursue with his cooking, because he hasn't had the time to actually refine those goals while he’s been swept up in the thrill of volleyball that was half his own love for it, half <em> theirs</em>. He’ll figure it out though, and Atsumu will figure out how to do this without him.  </p>
<p>So when Atsumu vows to live the happier life...</p>
<p>
  <em> Go ahead and show me. </em>
</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>When they graduate, Atsumu gets a lot of offers from volleyball clubs in each of the V.League’s divisions. Some of them want Osamu as part of the deal—there’s an obvious marketing appeal to recreating the Miya Twins’ volleyball partnership in a professional team, after all—and some are prepared to make Atsumu their starting setter right away. There are plenty of options to mull over, but it’s with no amount of humility that Atsumu crows when he gets the offer from the current champion team of Division One. In fact, the MSBY Black Jackals have been the top team just about every other year for a while now. </p>
<p>It’s not a starting position yet since they have a great setter already, but Atsumu is better and knows it. He’ll be the starting setter by the 2015-2016 season, Osamu is sure, so there’s really no better choice.</p>
<p>Atsumu is practically bouncing off the walls when he arrives home, nearly tripping as he slips out of his sneakers and tells them all the good news. The Miya household is as lively as it’s ever been as Atsumu details everything from his meeting and the offer, and their mother cries happy tears.</p>
<p>Osamu bumps fists with him and congratulates him, beaming so wide his cheeks hurt, but there aren’t really words to express the pride he feels—whatever Atsumu is in all other areas of his life, he <em> deserves </em> this, has worked harder, hungered for it more than anyone. And even though Osamu has given volleyball up, it feels like a part of him gets to stay there if Atsumu is living that dream. </p>
<p>When he and Atsumu finally head to their room for the night, Osamu feels like he might just pass out, if not for the fact that his unsettled mind hasn’t caught up to his physical exhaustion. He finds himself staring at the ceiling from his top bunk as he listens to the repetitive <em> pit-pat </em> of the volleyball in Atsumu’s hands as he, still too full of energy, lies down on the floor to toss it above his head.</p>
<p>“So…” Osamu says after a while. “Hirakata?”</p>
<p>There’s a brief pause after the next thump of the volleyball landing in Atsumu’s hands. “...Yep.” Osamu imagines him spinning it between his palms for a moment before the tossing resumes. </p>
<p>
  <em> Pit... pat... pit... pat... pit... pat... </em>
</p>
<p>It’s a familiar sound in this room. Osamu can hardly recall a night when a volleyball hadn’t been bounced around for a bit before bed. He could almost drift off to sleep listening to the rhythm of it.</p>
<p>But that’s just the problem tonight. The familiar routines built inside these four walls over eighteen years suddenly have an expiration date. The longest they’ve ever spent apart was when Atsumu attended the All-Japan Youth Training Camp without him, and Osamu remembers how the silence he’d been looking forward to felt oppressive late at night until the buzz of his phone with a dumb question or volleyball gossip told him Atsumu couldn’t sleep either.</p>
<p>The ride to Hirakata has to be an hour, at least. There’s an uncomfortable feeling in his chest as the reality sinks in that it’s not just Osamu in school while Atsumu’s on the volleyball court. It’s different cities, quiet bedrooms, plenty of breathing room with no one to bicker with. Separate lives. </p>
<p>They’re both going after what they wanted, and this is part of that. It’s exciting and somehow already unbearably lonely. </p>
<p>Osamu sighs. “Couldn’t ya have picked somewhere further? I’ll be able to hear yer dumb ass whinin’ during practice all the way over here.”</p>
<p>Because he knows his brother so well, knows the sound of that volleyball in his hands like it’s his own heart beating in his chest, he is prepared to smack it down when it shoots toward his head.</p>
<p>Atsumu makes a disgruntled noise as he avoids getting hit in the face and stands up, not even bothering to retrieve the ball as it rolls away. He folds his arms on the edge of Osamu’s bunk and rests his chin on them, eyes narrowed and mouth turned down on one side.</p>
<p>“Can’t wait to set to some real hitters instead of scrubs like you.”</p>
<p>Osamu knocks him in the side of the head, not as hard as he normally would, but Atsumu protests just as loudly as ever, even if he doesn’t move.</p>
<p>“I’m gonna finally know some peace ’n quiet around here without you sayin’ whatever dumb shit comes into yer head. Thought this day would never come.”</p>
<p>Atsumu rolls his eyes and disappears into the lower bunk. “Yeah, yeah. Well, ya still got me for another month before I hafta move for training.”</p>
<p>That tightness in Osamu’s chest eases a bit, and he rolls onto his side to get more comfortable. </p>
<p>“You’re really not gonna play anymore, huh, Samu?” Atsumu asks a little while later, even though he’s known it for more than a year.</p>
<p>Osamu closes his eyes and doesn’t respond, letting the question hang in the air as he feigns sleep. </p>
<p>Atsumu will be fine. He’ll get on the court and show them what a world-class setter plays like, and he’ll annoy the crap out of a whole new team of players who can’t deny that despite his terrible personality, he makes them play better. Maybe he’ll even find someone crazy enough to push him further too. </p>
<p>Osamu’s mattress jolts as Atsumu’s foot connects with it from below.</p>
<p>“Oi! I know you’re still awake. Stop ignorin’ me!”</p>
<p>Atsumu will be a dead man if Osamu is stuck with him for a whole month longer.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Despite being busy with classes, Osamu still goes along to find Atsumu an apartment. Atsumu signs a lease for one in a decent area where he can have a good jogging route and a reasonable commute to practice. It’s a small apartment; he doesn’t mind much that the kitchen is especially so (with mild disappointment, Osamu imagines the refrigerator full of protein shakes and takeout, but his hopes for Atsumu to ever actually learn to cook on his own were never high to begin with). The living room only needs a couple things to furnish it—a couch, a coffee table, a small stand for the television—and the bedroom will hardly fit more than his single bed. </p>
<p>The small space is plenty for one person who practically lives on a volleyball court anyway. The day they move Atsumu in, it’s clear it’s not quite enough for entertaining any guests, though. <em> Not that Atsumu would ever be a good host</em>, Osamu thinks as he drops the last box of Atsumu’s things on the floor. He scowls at Atsumu, who is sitting on the couch eating a pork bun he must’ve snuck away to buy at the convenience store a block over. </p>
<p>Atsumu protests the sound of the box labeled <em> video games</em>—apparently having made their way here from their old bedroom <em> without </em>them discussing who got custody—crashing to the ground, and Osamu kicks him in the shin.</p>
<p>“Ya better have at least gotten two of those.”</p>
<p>Atsumu’s hand closes around the paper bag that’s sitting next to his knee, protectively, like he’s contemplating whether or not to hand it over at all, but he apparently abandons any idea of seconds as he sighs dramatically and holds it out to Osamu.</p>
<p>It’s decent, but Osamu decides they need to do some more exploring to find better ones later. He flops down beside Atsumu while they finish them and announces, “I’m not helping you unpack yer shit.”</p>
<p>Except he does. It doesn’t take that long anyway, and afterward they play <em> Pro Evolution Soccer </em> while trying more takeout. Osamu has an early class the next morning, but he heads back late when Atsumu is snoring on the couch despite Osamu trying to nudge him awake. He arrives home to the lights out with his parents already sleeping... and to an empty bedroom. </p>
<p>If he ends up collapsing into his brother’s bottom bunk, it’s only because he’s too tired to climb the ladder.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>On his own in a new city and still getting to know his teammates, Atsumu texts. A lot. When Osamu is in class. When Osamu is cooking. When Osamu is trying to sleep. As long as Atsumu is not at practice, he sends many text messages with very little substance, because even an hour and a half away, he needs to make sure Osamu is subjected to his rambling.</p>
<p>
  <em> Found a soba place we have to try. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Samu, are you still doing homework? I’m boooooored. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> My serves were on fire today at practice. Inunaki couldn’t touch them. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> There’s nothing to eat in my fridge :(  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Haha check out the video of this dumb cat. It looks like Rin-kun. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Why aren’t you answering me??? </em>
</p>
<p>As it turns out, they still spend most of their weekends together anyway. Sometimes, Atsumu gets homesick and ends up back in Hyogo on his days off. Oftentimes, he makes Osamu come to him in Hirakata, even when Osamu protests he has too much work to do and Atsumu’s apartment is cramped.</p>
<p>“You have <em> cooking </em> assignments,” he says. “You can do that and hang out with me at the same time. <em> Oooh</em>, and make double so I can have some, too.”</p>
<p>“I’m not comin' over to cook for you.”</p>
<p>“Samu,” Atsumu whines, “I’m gonna starve.”</p>
<p>“How is that my problem?”</p>
<p>Atsumu makes it his problem, just like Atsumu has always made everything his problem. Osamu finds himself cooking there or dragging Atsumu off grocery shopping because he’s more hopeless than he even expected.</p>
<p>They fight less—or less dramatically, at least—when they’re not seeing each other every day, and Osamu doesn’t mind much the sense of normalcy of video game nights and bickering with each other, even if Atsumu never stops being an annoying jerk.</p>
<p>And volleyball still dominates a lot of their time together. They watch tapes of matches or pick apart recordings of Atsumu’s plays from practices, or they find a gym and work on his sets while Osamu fills in spiking. </p>
<p>It’s a familiar rhythm: a high toss, the ball caught and guided at Atsumu’s fingertips, the resounding smack of the ball when it meets Osamu’s palm and then the ground, Osamu’s sneakers squealing as he lands a moment later. The volleyball feels just as comfortable against his hand as it always has.</p>
<p>“You miss it,” Atsumu says accusingly one time when Osamu spins the ball in his hands and contemplates taking a serve.</p>
<p>Which is a dumb thing to say, because of course Osamu does. Loving volleyball doesn’t go away just because he chose a different dream.</p>
<p>Atsumu feels the need to add, tone light and taunting, “You miss playin' with me.”</p>
<p>Which, of course, is an even dumber thing to say. </p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Sometimes Osamu plays friendly matches with Atsumu and their friends, too, whoever can manage to get together. Some of Atsumu’s teammates even join them here or there, so Osamu gets to know them a bit, particularly Inunaki Shion. At 22 years old, Inunaki is one of the younger members of the team, but he’s apparently plenty old to treat Atsumu like a bratty kid brother.</p>
<p>It’s funny to see Atsumu being teased by someone who hasn’t known him for years. He gets too cocky or tries to show off and flubs something while messing around and Inunaki is right there alongside Suna and Osamu calling him out. Sometimes these recreational games turn into an unspoken contest of who can make Atsumu lose his cool the fastest.</p>
<p>It seems that no matter where he goes, Atsumu’s teammates will always be in agreement about one thing: picking on Atsumu is fair game.</p>
<p>Atsumu finds it all incredible <em> un</em>fair.</p>
<p>“Knowin’ someone’s around to keep you in check helps me sleep at night,” Osamu tells him, as if that’s supposed to appease Atsumu. (It isn’t.)</p>
<p>Osamu is still the best at riling him up, after all.</p>
<p>They still play together like no time has passed: completely balanced and in sync with each other, no communication necessary to know what they other is going to do or how they need to match it. Atsumu still leans toward tossing to Osamu most, and Osamu makes sure it counts.</p>
<p>It feels like Osamu never stepped off of the court without him. </p>
<p>***</p>
<p>The Jackals’ last match of the season is Atsumu’s first, when the team’s veteran setter Ishioka blows out his knee. It’s a pretty spectacular play. Ishioka recovers the ball after a receive sends it too far outside. He manages to get it to Barnes for a line shot that ends the long rally, but Ishioka lands wrong and goes down immediately. </p>
<p>The cheers of the crowd fade into concerned murmurs as the coach and a medic rush to his side. Osamu feels bad for the guy, but then he sees Atsumu—still seated, leg bouncing, hands gripping the edge of the bench as he leans forward, looking on hungrily, waiting for the word—and he can picture exactly how Atsumu would have done it differently, would have tossed it with greater precision all while sticking the landing and getting back into position in case the ball got returned. </p>
<p><em> This is it, </em> Osamu thinks, pulse quickening as Ishioka is helped off the court and Atsumu springs to his feet the instant he’s called forward. <em> This is Atsumu’s moment. </em></p>
<p>The Jackals have already lost the two sets to the Hornets and are down 14-18 in the third when Atsumu steps on the court. He searches the crowd for a second before locking eyes with Osamu, and Osamu suddenly feels the anticipation as if he was there beside him.</p>
<p>Atsumu has the serve this rotation and the chance to really deliver a lasting first impression. He silences the room with the raise of his arm, and Osamu knows beneath the serious exterior, his brother is practically giddy doing this on a professional court for the first time. </p>
<p>Six steps back. Atsumu tosses the ball high and then jumps to slam it down just on the inside of the Hornets’ back line.</p>
<p>The room erupts into cheers, Jackals fans going completely wild at this unexpected change of pace, and Osamu hollers along with them as he clenches his right hand in satisfaction at the phantom sting of a volleyball against his palm. Atsumu beams up at him, looking positively cocky and high on the thrill. </p>
<p>The Jackals turn around the third set and then take the fourth too, and even though they lose in the fifth, no one is forgetting the rookie setter who introduced himself with three service aces any time soon.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>At the end of April, Osamu receives a photo message—an image of Atsumu, tongue sticking out, disgustingly smug expression on his face as he stands on the Black Jackals court—with the news: <em> Hey Samu, guess who’s the new starting setter of the V.League’s best team? </em></p>
<p>Osamu rolls his eyes and shoves a bite of salmon into his mouth before typing his response. <em> Who? Didn’t know the Raijin were replacing Fukatsu.  </em></p>
<p>Only a few moments pass until his phone buzzes again. <em> Shut it, quitter. We’re gonna win this year. </em></p>
<p>Osamu snorts to himself. <em> Congrats. Try not to act like an ass. </em>But judging by the rest of their conversation, Atsumu is very incapable of doing that ever.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>For the next week, there’s a lot of hype around the change after Atsumu’s performance in that debut match, but it’s quickly rivaled by the Schweiden Adlers picking up Karasuno High School’s Kageyama Tobio for their starting lineup. </p>
<p>Atsumu sends the article with a row of dramatic emojis and expletives beneath it. <em> Rookie Setter Takeover in the V.League</em>, a piece covering Atsumu and Kageyama’s history playing against each other in high school and speculating on what this “new breed of incredible setting” is going to bring to the league next season. Of course, the article also talks about how Kageyama is also rumored for the national team in next year’s Olympics.</p>
<p>That’s something Atsumu does not have.</p>
<p>Osamu is expecting it but he still laments that Atsumu always has to interrupt his lunch when his phone rings within minutes of him stepping out of class. He can hardly get a word in between Atsumu ranting how “Tobio-kun” has stolen his thunder. Osamu hums a few vague responses while he finds a bench to sit at and eat, tuning Atsumu out as often as he can.</p>
<p>Atsumu can complain all he wants about sharing the attention, but when it comes to stepping out on the court, Osamu knows this will only motivate him to push further. He can hear the excitement beneath Atsumu’s whining and starts feeling the anticipation himself.</p>
<p>“Ya plannin' on losing to him?” Osamu asks dryly at one point during a break in Atsumu’s rant. “Because that would be lame of you.”</p>
<p>“Course not,” Atsumu snaps. “I’m gonna wipe the floor with him.”</p>
<p>“Well, then you better get practicin’.” And Osamu ends the call on Atsumu’s squawk of protest to enjoy his lunch in peace. </p>
<p>***</p>
<p>One more shake-up to Atsumu’s season comes shortly after in the form of a transfer player: the Hornets’ outside hitter Bokuto Koutarou.</p>
<p>Osamu remembers him a bit from high school, one of the top five aces in Japan but known for being a bit temperamental and letting it affect his playing. They never actually squared off against him themselves, though they caught some games. </p>
<p>The stronger impression of him is from the Jackals vs. Hornets match Atsumu played in. The boisterous show-off ace who seems like an airhead and absolutely thrives off the hype of the crowd (his serving style is the antithesis of Atsumu’s: the noise <em> fuels </em> him), who are equally drawn to that natural charisma. He earned the game-winning point with a sick cut shot that shut down all of Atsumu’s efforts to turn that game around. </p>
<p>He drives Atsumu absolutely <em> crazy</em>. It’s amazing. The near-constant stream of text messages about it become a new form of entertainment for Osamu between studying and recipes. </p>
<p><em> He’s so loud</em>, Atsumu complains, lacking all self-awareness.</p>
<p><em> He never runs out of energy</em>, bitches the man who would call his teammates scrubs if they were ready to wrap up practice before he was.</p>
<p><em> Ugh everyone loves him</em>, says the jealous idiot who would snap at anyone who breaks his concentration during a serve.</p>
<p>Never a complaint about Bokuto’s skills, though. From what Osamu can tell, he is exactly the kind of spiker Atsumu needs out there—someone who has fun pushing himself to the peak of his abilities, never settling for what’s easy. He’ll be one hell of an ace on the Jackals, and Atsumu is going to enjoy utilizing him.</p>
<p>It seems like Bokuto has decided he’s already best pals with Atsumu, too. Always insisting on joining Atsumu for lunch breaks and apparently talking his ear off about this or that, for once someone Atsumu can’t keep up with. </p>
<p><em> Help, he’s following me home</em>, Atsumu texts one Saturday, and Osamu doesn’t even need to ask who. He’s already on his way there anyway with a bag full of onigiri for Atsumu’s pathetic fridge, fortunately more than enough if their usual night of video games is going to have an additional participant. </p>
<p>He walks in without knocking and finds Atsumu looking tired and deflated, sunken into the corner seat of the couch with Bokuto half standing at the other end, one knee bent on the arm as he tells some dramatic tale complete with big motions and a voice that don’t belong inside this tiny room.</p>
<p>“And that one when you—” He gestures with both arms, apparently mimicking a set, as he leans backward. “You know! That was really cool! I wanna hit it again tomorrow.”</p>
<p>“Bokkun, tomorrow is rest day,” Atsumu whines and drags his hand down his face.</p>
<p>“Oh, right!”</p>
<p>Osamu takes off his shoes and calls out to catch their attention—much to Atsumu’s visible relief—as he starts unpacking the onigiri on the kitchen counter.</p>
<p>“Hey, it’s Myaa-sam!” Bokuto greets cheerfully, gold eyes round with surprise. “Tsum-Tsum didn’t say he was inviting you over, too!”</p>
<p>“I didn’t invite <em> you </em> over, in the first place,” Atsumu says.</p>
<p>Bokuto puts his hands on his hips and throws his head back, booming with laughter and brushing off Atsumu’s crankiness without a care. “It’s good to meet you, Myaa-sam!”</p>
<p>Osamu nods but doesn’t even get to respond as Bokuto notices him pop the lid off the container of onigiri and is suddenly in front of him. “Oooh what did you bring?”</p>
<p>“Oi!” Atsumu protests, rising from his seat. “That’s <em> my </em>onigiri.”</p>
<p>Osamu rolls his eyes and hands one to Bokuto. “Stop bein' a shitty host, Tsumu.”</p>
<p>But Bokuto doesn’t seem to mind, happily digging into his food and standing bolt upright in surprise after the first bite. “Yakiniku beef?! Where did you get these?” he asks, reaching for another before he’s even finished demolishing the first. </p>
<p>Atsumu smacks his hand away and grabs the one he was going to take. “Samu, made 'em,” he says, sounding like he’s been personally affronted by the suggestion they’re store-bought. “For <em> me</em>.”</p>
<p>“No way!” Bokuto exclaims, shoving the rest of the onigiri into his mouth. “Tsum-tsum, why didn’t you ever say your brother is such a good cook!”</p>
<p>“What’dya think he’s goin' to culinary school for? To suck at it?”</p>
<p>Bokuto’s eyes widen and his mouth forms a little ‘o’ shape. “Oh yeah!”</p>
<p>Amused, Osamu holds the container out for him and waves off Atsumu’s bratty scowl. </p>
<p>Bokuto makes an excited noise as he takes another and closes his eyes to savor the taste when he bites into it, a goofy grin stretched across his face. “Myaa-sam, this is the best onigiri I’ve ever had!” he says with his mouth still full. </p>
<p>“Course it is,” Atsumu says, pulling the container back toward himself. “Now stop hoggin’ it all. It’s mine.”</p>
<p>Bokuto laughs again. He manages to snatch another riceball out of the container before Atsumu claims the entire thing and sits down on the kitchen stool to happily munch away at both. “Mmmm. You should really sell these.”</p>
<p>“I’ve thought about it,” Osamu says leaning back against the counter and enjoying the appreciation for his cooking. </p>
<p>“You’d probably sell a bunch at games,” Bokuto says enthusiastically. “I’d buy at least five.”</p>
<p>Now, there’s an idea Osamu hasn’t entertained yet. Volleyball matches host plenty of vendors, don’t they? And he was already going to all of the Black Jackals matches before Atsumu was starting. It’s certainly something to consider. </p>
<p>When Bokuto is done, he looks at Atsumu contemplatively for a moment.  “Hey Tsum-Tsum, if your brother is such a good cook, why do all the lunches you bring to practice look so sad?”</p>
<p>Atsumu’s face scrunches in annoyance. “Who asked you, anyway?!”</p>
<p>Bokuto sticks around late and helps polish off anything that would have been saved for Atsumu’s leftovers. He turns out to be a button masher at just about any video game they play, and Atsumu, always the ungracious winner, treats it as if Bokuto has suddenly become terrible at something as important as volleyball. While Bokuto sulks, Osamu shuts Atsumu down pretty quickly by kicking his ass in the next round, though.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>It’s not the last time Bokuto “invites himself” over or drags Atsumu to his place or somewhere in Hirakata he’s been wanting to check out. Bokuto even tags along a couple times when they play volleyball back home with their friends, and Osamu experiences firsthand just how much fun Atsumu and Bokuto have playing together. He sees that smug grin of satisfaction Atsumu wears when one of his spikers smashes the ball on the other side of the court over and over, for Bokuto. </p>
<p>"Hey, hey, hey!" Bokuto cheers himself on each time, and Atsumu high fives him or bumps his shoulder with the same familiarity he did teammates back in high school. </p>
<p>They’ve meshed well together on the court, it seems. Once upon a time, Bokuto was a moody player who could be completely derailed by being shut out blockers, but he’s certainly grown on his own. And Atsumu brings out the best of his talent, even in casual gameplay, and makes sure Bokuto quickly gets chances to redeem himself if he is blocked.</p>
<p>As they become friends, Atsumu no longer asks for a rescue, but his whiny texts about Bokuto don’t stop. Because it turns out Atsumu doesn’t know what to do with people who—thanks to poor taste—actually seem to <em> like </em> his company.</p>
<p>Meanwhile, Osamu starts making onigiri in Atsumu’s awful kitchen nearly every week, new flavors and recipes for his enthusiastic testers. So Onigiri Miya is born in a cramped apartment until Osamu opens his stand at Black Jackals games. </p>
<p>He gets to watch every game while making a profit off of something he loves doing. And it turns out Bokuto was right. He sells out the very first game of the season—all except the five yakiniku beef onigiri he saves for Bokuto after their win.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>The Jackals have a good season, but the Adlers have a better one, knocking them out in the semi-finals in a narrow victory. </p>
<p>Atsumu’s setting is incredible, but it doesn’t stop him from going over every misstep in the match: the moves that Kageyama read too easily, the times he should’ve tossed to the hitter on the right instead of the left, the last set delivered from a tough spot on the edge of the court that went just a little too high to let Bokuto get the full power of his spike behind the ball.</p>
<p>Back at Atsumu’s apartment, Osamu lets him wallow for a while and provides comfort in the form of food and an ear to vent to. </p>
<p>“Done with yer pity party?” he asks eventually, when Atsumu is moping into his empty pudding cup. He turns on the television and game console, queuing up the last game they left in it.</p>
<p>Atsumu sighs and flops back against the couch. “<em>I guess</em>.”</p>
<p>“Good, then…” Osamu grabs the video game controllers. “Ya got carried away at points in the game and made a couple stupid moves—”</p>
<p>“Hey! Yer suppose ta—”</p>
<p>Osamu cuts off his protest by tossing a controller into his lap. “Nothin’ new there. Grow up and quit actin’ like a kid in the middle of a match. They weren’t perfect either, y’know. Stop dwelling on it and do better next time. Now pick a player. I’m gonna kick yer ass again, loser.”</p>
<p>If looks could kill… but Atsumu, unable to turn down any challenge snatches up the controller. “You wish.”</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>It’s a rough few months for Atsumu. After the loss, he doubles down and works harder still, until a wrist sprain pulls him out of practice in the off season, which—to hear him tell it—is the end of all things. </p>
<p>“I’m losin’ too much time,” he says the night it happens, arm thrown over his eyes as he lies in bed and doesn’t even consider getting up when Osamu comes to check on him. </p>
<p>“It’s only a minor sprain. What’d they tell ya? Four weeks? You’ll be back in before the season even starts.”</p>
<p>Osamu should be at home sleeping right now, but he stands there on aching feet, exhausted from a long shift at his cooking apprenticeship. The moment it ended and he saw the text messages sent hours earlier, he ended up on a train to Hirakata with a bag full of takeout that Atsumu, for once in his life, has no interest in. </p>
<p>Atsumu groans. “It’s still four weeks that Ishioka can get in a groove with the new lineup while I’m sittin’ it out.”</p>
<p>It’s true the lineup has changed again, with a new foreign player—Adriah Tomas—signed to the Jackals and new leadership as Meian Shuugo steps up as the captain. The off season has been spent figuring out how the team dynamics have changed and how to use their new lineup best. But Atsumu has been feeling good about it, bragging to Osamu about how he’s starting to get this whole team dancing to his tune.</p>
<p>Osamu doubts that there’s much chance Atsumu wouldn’t start, even with the month off, but he understands his frustration. Heaving a sigh, he pushes Atsumu’s legs aside and sits at the end of the bed. “You’re better than Ishioka and they know it.”</p>
<p>Atsumu lowers his arm a bit and looks miserably over it. “It’s so stupid this even happened,” he says, muffled by the back of his hand.</p>
<p>“Yeah, well, no one ever accused you of bein’ smart.” </p>
<p>When Atsumu tries to kick him, Osamu catches his leg on instinct and meets his glare with a look of reproach. </p>
<p>“Bet yer teammates are lookin’ forward to the break,” he says, toeing a volleyball that Atsumu left lying near the bed. “Must be nice, a few weeks without you runnin’ yer mouth.” </p>
<p>“Didja come here just to kick me while I’m down, Samu?!”</p>
<p>“Only if you deserve it.” Osamu rolls the volleyball under his foot a few times, before looking back at him again. Atsumu is frowning up at his wrapped-up hand, held high above his head. “You alright?”</p>
<p>“Tobio-kun isn’t missin’ out on a month of training,” Atsumu says bitterly. </p>
<p>Which isn’t true, exactly, because Kageyama Tobio isn’t doing much <em> training </em>while he’s busy with day four at the Rio Olympics. And that’s the real problem, isn’t it? Atsumu is bent out of shape over that and has been all week, and his own preoccupation with it is probably why he got carried away and made this stupid mistake. </p>
<p>Osamu shrugs and kicks the volleyball up into his hands. “Good point, guess he’ll kick yer ass this season too.”</p>
<p>“Like I need to hear that from a volleyball dropout like you.”</p>
<p>There’s a clear shot of Atsumu’s head without his injured arm in the way, and maybe a volleyball to the face would give him something better to worry about. But Osamu bites the inside of his cheek and lets the urge pass.</p>
<p>Fortunately, Atsumu’s growling stomach gives him something new to focus on, so he rises and stretches his arms high over his head. “Okay, I’m gonna go eat the food I brought. Stay here ‘n starve, I guess.”</p>
<p>Atsumu apparently needs a few more minutes for sulking, but he eventually shuffles out to eat the plate Osamu has made up for him. </p>
<p>“So tell me about the spectacular play that was worth injurin’ yourself over in practice.”</p>
<p>The food flung his way misses by a few inches. Osamu has always been better at avoiding Atsumu’s attacks than the other way around. </p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Atsumu does get to start that season, of course, and this time they make it to the semi-finals before the Adlers knock them out again. To add insult to injury, Kageyama overtakes Atsumu’s service ace record for the season.</p>
<p>Atsumu mopes. Osamu offers food and then jibes at him until he gets over it.</p>
<p>Rinse, repeat.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>“Samu, what’re we doin’ here?”</p>
<p>It’s a hot day in July, and they’re standing outside a vacant storefront in Osaka City, Osamu having dragged Atsumu out here without any explanation other than “got something to show ya.” </p>
<p>Now Atsumu looks sweaty and unimpressed as he looks at the empty shop. “Sure you got the right directions for whatever yer lookin’ for? There’s nothing here.”</p>
<p>Osamu pulls a key from his pocket and dangles it in front of Astumu’s face. “Not yet, there ain’t.”</p>
<p>Atsumu only frowns in confusion as Osamu unlocks the door and gestures for him to follow. “What’re we lookin’ at?” he asks, glancing around the room at the counter behind Osamu and the shelves that line the far wall. </p>
<p>“The new storefront for Onigiri Miya.”</p>
<p>Atsumu’s eyes light up and he spins around to look at him. “No way.”</p>
<p>Osamu swings the keyring around his finger and nods. “Can’t keep it traveling forever, can I?”</p>
<p>“Samu!” Atsumu grabs him by the shoulders, grip tight as he shakes him a little bit in his excitement. “That’s amazing!”</p>
<p>Osamu grins proudly. “I saved up enough from the business in the past two years and got a loan. It was already an onigiri place, so it just needs some cosmetic changes and some new kitchen equipment. But it’s mine. There’s even an apartment upstairs.”</p>
<p>“It’s gonna be great! And you’re way closer now! I’m gonna eat here all the time.”</p>
<p>Osamu pushes him away by the face because he is absolutely not letting Atsumu think about mooching off of him before he’s even opened his store (not that it matters after <em> a lifetime </em> of it). “Paying customers only.”</p>
<p>“<em>Samu, you’re heartless</em>.”</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>The grand opening happens in September with a few of the Jackals behind the counter for publicity. Inunaki isn’t completely useless in the kitchen, so he helps out there. Bokuto is under strict orders to do nothing but greet the customers… and Atsumu to greet them as little as possible lest he open his dumb mouth and someone thinks Osamu said it.</p>
<p>“You talk to someone and they’ll probably never come back again.”</p>
<p>“You’re letting <em> him </em>say hi to people!” Atsumu says, waving his arm angrily in the direction of Bokuto, who stands looking like a deer caught in headlights between their argument.</p>
<p>“Yeah, ‘cause he’s likable.”</p>
<p>Atsumu’s jaw drops, offended. “Are ya sayin’ I’m not?”</p>
<p>“Didn’t know you needed me to tell ya.”</p>
<p>Inunaki is cracking up, pulling a dazed Bokuto out of range before the twins both start shoving at each other.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>The turnout is better than Osamu dared hope for, and the business keeps him busy around the clock. Weekends spent hanging out with Atsumu in Hirakata turn into long hours working hard, but it feels good staking a physical claim on something that’s his own. He crafts his onigiri with care like it’s an artform, and he gets to see people enjoy it every day.</p>
<p>He doesn’t make every Jackals game anymore—there aren’t enough employees yet to reliably cover the shop if the games are out of the way—but he still sells there when he can.</p>
<p>It’s another new pace to adjust to. For him and for Atsumu… who is apparently working on imprinting his ass on one of the stools as he shows up to claim it every time he’s burdened with a minor crisis or exciting news or boredom. Not that he actually has a lot of free time during the season anyway, but with their schedules now completely out of sync he just disregards Osamu’s altogether to show up on his own time.</p>
<p>Atsumu still asks him to come play volleyball with some of the guys, but keeping the momentum on his business just doesn’t leave room for it right now. </p>
<p>It’s a new pace that feels more separate than ever before. </p>
<p>***</p>
<p>The Jackals lose in the semi-finals again, and this time Osamu isn’t there to see it happen. </p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Osamu is cleaning up and doing food prep after the lunch rush when he starts expecting a call from Atsumu. He’s not quite sure why—they don’t have any plans today, and there’s nothing significant going on that would be worth calling about—but he feels a strange anticipation practically humming under the surface as he goes about his usual routine.</p>
<p>About 20 minutes later, he’s proven right when his phone rings. He tells Kaito to cover the front counter while he steps into the tiny back office to take the call. “What’s up, Tsumu?”</p>
<p>“The Jackals held tryouts today,” Atsumu says with a singsong lilt, which means whatever it is he’s got to tell, it’s good news. “<em> He’s back</em>.”</p>
<p>“Who are we talking about?” Osamu asks, even though Atsumu’s excitement raises his suspicions already. He remembers the look on Atsumu’s face years ago when they first faced off against a particular player—someone as hungry for the game as Atsumu is—and a promise that’s only half been fulfilled. </p>
<p>“Shouyou-kun came back from Brazil and tried out for the team today. He’s different now.”</p>
<p>“Oh yeah?” Osamu asks, taking a seat and setting his hat on the desk. “He grow ten inches?”</p>
<p>Atsumu huffs out a laugh. “Hardly. But the shorty is faster and jumps higher. And he got really good<em>. </em> At <em> everything.</em> He can practically cover half the court on his own, and he can set, too. Nothin’ on my level of course, but I hit a few of his tosses and they’re solid.” His voice takes on a more serious tone. “Samu, this is gonna be it.”</p>
<p>It is. Osamu can sense it, too. The team has already acquired Sakusa Kiyoomi fresh out of the college league and now they’ve got Hinata Shouyou, whom Atsumu has anticipated for <em> years</em>.</p>
<p>Atsumu has been playing professionally all this time, but this? Feels like the start of something big.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>The assembly of the new Jackals lineup lights a fire under Atsumu. He was already obsessed, already trained hard, but now it feels like it never stops. The extra practice hours he might’ve picked up by dragging Osamu to a court are spent with Hinata or Bokuto or Sakusa, and he’s frequently telling Osamu about the new plays that are going to blow their competitors away. </p>
<p>It seems like the times he does actually relax, it’s because he’s just spending time with his teammates. Or, more specifically, Hinata. The first time Osamu receives a text message reply that, no, Atsumu doesn’t need him to stop by with new onigiri samples because he’s “at Shouyou-kun’s cooking something he learned in Brazil,” he nearly drops his phone. </p>
<p>There’s still a stool at Onigiri Miya with Atsumu’s name on it and a futon upstairs when he comes over late enough to be worth staying there. It’s just that Atsumu doesn’t need it as often as he used to.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Things slow down enough for Osamu that he does finally get to play some volleyball again. It’s three-on-three on the court. Atsumu, Osamu, and Hinata on one side. Bokuto and a few of his old friends on the other. </p>
<p>It's the first time Osamu has actually seen Hinata in person since he came back to Japan—Atsumu has been oddly content keeping this to himself for the past two months. He looks good. Tanner than Osamu remembers, probably was even more so when first came back from Brazil. The ends of his unruly orange hair are nearly strawberry blond from having been bleached in the Rio sun. And he's definitely grown a few inches—nothing to really take him out of the short range, but enough that combined with the muscle he's packed on, no one could call him a shrimp either.</p>
<p>He looks at Atsumu like Osamu thought nobody might ever look at Atsumu—with warmth shining in his eyes every time he casually touches his shoulder or makes a terrible joke or speaks (even when Atsumu says something inevitably rude and stupid).</p>
<p>It’s a more startling discovery than is should be considering the way Atsumu talks about him. But in high school, with a net between them, Osamu mostly got to see Hinata‘s intense and competitive side. The Hinata who greets him now is bright and cheerful, calling out “Osamu-san!” like he’s welcoming an old friend onto the court, and that still doesn’t come close the the fondness for Atsumu that is written all over his face. </p>
<p>Osamu files the information away to consider later when the first game he’s played in months isn’t waiting for him. </p>
<p>It’s a blast being back on a court, firing up his competitive side again, and despite the long time away, Osamu plays well and enjoys the company. The volleyball still feels just as comfortable against his hand as it always has, as it always will.</p>
<p>There’s one particular play, though...</p>
<p>Osamu makes the run up, expecting that Atsumu will send the ball his way considering his position and that his side of the court is wide open. But so does Hinata. It doesn’t make sense to send him the toss with two of the guys crowding the net before him, not at the angle Atsumu has to toss it, not when comparing a 22-year partnership to a matter of months. </p>
<p>It’s a familiar rhythm: a receive that rebounds high, the ball caught and guided at Atsumu’s fingertips, the resounding smack of the ball when it meets <em> Hinata’s </em>palm and then the ground, Osamu’s sneakers squealing as he lands a moment later.</p>
<p>There’s something in Atsumu smiling at Hinata that isn’t his usual childishly-smug victory grin, and it really sinks in. </p>
<p>
  <em> Yesterday’s gone.  </em>
</p>
<p>But that night still finds Atsumu crashing at Osamu’s place, showing him volleyball videos he’s been studying, going on about the new serve he wants to add to his already impressive arsenal. And it lessens the blow of realizing Atsumu really <em> has </em>figured out how to do this without him, to know it doesn’t mean he always plans to.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>The season ends with the Black Jackals as V.League champions, and Atsumu finally gets to best Kageyama—winning two games out of three <em> and </em> taking back the service ace record with his new hybrid serve.</p>
<p>In the championship game, at the end of the longest rally, Atsumu recovers a tough receive by delivering his set from outside the court. Sakusa scores the last point with a line shot that sends the ball whipping past Ushijima to smack down in the far corner of the court.</p>
<p>Atsumu and Hinata practically throw Sakusa into the air in their excitement before Bokuto comes bowling into them. They all end up on the ground, laughing their asses off as the rest of the team crowds around them.</p>
<p>Atsumu glows, happier than Osamu has ever seen him, and Osamu feels that happiness like it’s his own. And it is, in a way, when he’s here doing what he loves while Atsumu also succeeds at what <em> he </em> loves. Even charting their own courses, they will always rise and fall with the waves of each other’s happiness.</p>
<p>It’s sure going to be hard someday to argue that either of them ever had it better than the other.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>
  <em> So what’re we gonna do today? </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are always appreciated :)</p>
<p>You can also find me on twitter @3llieb3an, and the post for this particular fic <a href="https://twitter.com/3llieb3an/status/1289198404573175811?s=21">here</a>. &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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